


Gold Stars and Blood Stains

by innerdialogue



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, F/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:26:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerdialogue/pseuds/innerdialogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel Berry won't let her destiny as the Slayer keep her from her dreams of stardom.   If only a certain vampire would leave her alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Stars and Blood Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Rachel Berry, Blaine Anderson, or the themes associated with Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm only playing around.

Blaine is almost finished eating when he hears the noise. He stops drinking, and wipes his lips against his sleeve. The boy’s body falls to the ground, neck exposed in the low light of the moon, pale skin even whiter now that it’s been drained of blood. It was almost a shame. Kurt was cute, and easily wooed by a few kind words and several gentle touches. Cute, but stupid.  
Blaine steps over the corpse and through the bushes back onto the path way. The park is empty, deserted at such a late a hour. Before he would have ignored it—just a squirrel or something—but a part of him, the new part of him knows that someone is there.

And that means food.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and begins to stroll down the sidewalk toward the fountain. He begins to whistle, some song he’s heard on the radio in the last couple of days.

“Blaine?”

He stops in his tracks, looking up at the sound of his name. A girl is sitting on the bench by the fountain. She’s wearing track pants and a tank top, like she’s been out jogging. Her sleek brown hair is pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck.

Blaine smiles. ”Rachel, is that you?”

Rachel smiles and nods, jumping to her feet. ”Yes, it’s me. I’m surprised to see you. People haven’t seen you in awhile.”

He shrugs and smiles as he steps forward. ”Oh, you know. I’ve been…around.”

“That’s nice,” Rachel says. ”What are you doing out here so late?”

“I just stepped out for a bite to eat,” he says, grinning. ”What about you? A girl like you shouldn’t be out this late by herself.”

Rachel shrugs one shoulder. ”I can take care of myself, but I suppose if you’d like, you could walk me home.”

Blaine nods and steps forward, grinning so widely his teeth are showing.

He doesn’t see the attack coming.

Rachel’s fist connects with his nose with more force than Blaine would have thought a tiny girl like Rachel could muster. He reels backward, clutching his face as newly drained blood flows from his nose. The force of the blow causes him to look his focus, and his face shifts, revealing his true nature.

“Slayer,” he snarls.

\--*--

“I’m going to kill you, you know,” Blaine growled as he pinned her to the ground. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips, and if Rachel were a normal sixteen year old girl she would have bruises for days. It was times like this she was glad she was a bit more durable. It wasn’t like she’s being gentle either. She bit down on his lower lip. Hard.

“Not if I kill you first,” Rachel laughs. She isn’t sure when their fight to the death evolved into a full-on make out session in the bushes in the park, but at this point she isn’t really complaining. Being the Slayer sucks, in more ways than one. Most of all it just really makes it hard to date. Though she would rather spend her time hanging out in the choir room at school, Rachel spends most of her free time patrolling the cemeteries of Lima, Ohio, seeking out evil, stopping the spread of their numbers, blah, blah, blah. Trust her, it wasn’t a good way to meet boys, and the boys she did meet were usually trying to kill her.

Except for when they’re trying to shove their undead tongues down her throat.

It’s strange, making out with a vampire. She doesn’t have a lot of experience in this department, mind you, but Rachel has read plenty of the romance novels her dad leaves lying around, and she has some vague notion that the body pressing her down into the dirt should be firm, heavy, and warm. Blaine has the first two down, but his skin is like ice. There is a hint of body heat, and the thought that it is probably from whomever he was just feeding on sent shivers down Rachel’s spine. This was wrong. This was so, so wrong.

But what her Watcher didn’t know didn’t hurt her.

Rachel grabbed Blaine’s shoulders and tugged, using her Slayer strength to flip him onto his back. He smirks up at her, his eyes glinting in the low moonlight. His face was beautiful and perfect and more importantly human, or at least some impression of it, and she thinks if he vamped out right now she would be sick.

“You’re thinking too much,” Blaine whispered, his voice like gravel against her ear. He presses his nose against her neck and inhales. “I can smell it on you.”

“I do not smell,” she protested weakly.

“Oh, but you do. You smell like vanilla, and lemongrass, and just a tiny bit of fear. Are you afraid, Rachel? ” 

She huffed and shoved him back down onto the ground. “Just shut up and fuck me, Fang-boy, so I can stake you and get on with my night, okay?”

“Actually, Slayer, I thought I’d stake you.”

And then he was sliding up into her with a jerk of his hips. There was no preamble, just the quick, sharp thrust, and Rachel had to bite back the groan of pain as she was filled. She barely had time to adjust to the deep, aching stretch of being occupied like that before he was moving, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he set the pace. It was rough and quick and raw, and Rachel could only try to meet the movement of his hips, thrust by thrust. She leans forward, palms flat against his chest for leverage, and kisses him as they move against each other.

Rachel gasped as his fingers trailed from her hips to her grown, pressing hard against the bundle of nerves at her core. It was like an electric shock, and suddenly Rachel was gone, shuddering as she came apart at the seams. Blaine was quick to follow her over the ledge, pressing his face into her chest and growling a deep, animalistic growl. 

“R-Rachel,” he grunted, and she gasped as his face shifted to the vampire face and his warm, brown eyes now glowed yellow in the darkness. His lips curled, and his fangs brushed against the soft, warm skin of her breast. “Rachel, let me.”

She shook her head slowly, still high on her release. She laughed breathlessly, her chest heaving as she tried to get her breathing under control. “That was…that was...”

“Yeah,” he grunted. He was breathing heavily, too, but it was more out of habit than anything. He didn’t need to breathe any more than he needed to eat human food. He rolled onto his side, propping his head in his hand. To Rachel’s secret pleasure, Blaine’s face was smooth and human again as he reached to trace a finger along her neck. “But it would have been better if I had gotten a taste.”

Rachel laughed and pulled her tank top back over her head. “Don’t push it, Fang-Boy.”

\--*--

Usually, petty thieves aren’t really Rachel’s deal, but she’s had a rough day and she needs to burn off some steam. There has been a serious lack of trouble—mystical or otherwise—and it’s made her antsy. Earlier in her monster-fighting career she would have welcomed the chance to act like a normal girl her age, but it seems she has grown used to having to fight for your life every other night, tumbling around in the shadows with vampires, demons, and other things that go bump in the night. They bump, she bumps back. It’s kind of her thing nowadays.

She’s on her way home from actually studying at the library when she comes across a woman fighting with a mugger over her handbag. They each are pulling at the bag, and eventually the man wins, yanking the purse from the woman’s hands and running away. His victim is screaming for the police when Rachel flies by her, itching for the chance to actually do something. The guy has a head start on her, but she’s gaining ground. The creep must see this because he soon ducks into an alleyway between a used bookstore and a pawnshop. Rachel sighs—there aren’t that many alleys in Lima, but somehow this guy’s found one—and follows him around the corner.

She cries out in surprise as the purse snatcher’s body fall back on her. He crumples to the ground of the alleyway, his face contorted in fear and pain, his skin ashy and lifeless. The collar of his jacket has been pulled down, and his neck has been torn open at the point where it meets his shoulder. The stolen purse is still clutched in his hand.

“Won’t they ever learn that crime doesn’t pay?”

Rachel reluctantly drags her gaze from the thief’s corpse to find Blaine leaning against the brick wall. He is dressed smartly in a red cardigan and gray slacks, looking very much like a normal teenage boy except for the dark smudge of blood still on the corner of his mouth. His tongue darts out to lick it away, and Rachel feels a sickening pull low in her belly.

“Blaine,” she croaks.

“Hello, Rachel,” he replies in a friendly tone, almost as if they aren’t standing above the body of the man he has just killed. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

“You mean after you kill people?” she huffs, crossing her arms.

He shrugs, nudging the dead thief with a polished loafer. “Hey, a guy’s got to eat.”

“Yes well, when a guy goes to McDonalds he usually eats a hamburger not the Hamburglar .”

“Tell me, is the sparkling wit one of your many gifts as the Slayer or just is that just one hundred percent Rachel Berry?”

She ignores him and gingerly takes the purse from the dead guy’s hands. He’s clutching in a death grip, and Rachel has to pry his fingers off of it before she can take it. His skin is already cool to the touch, and for a reason she isn’t quite sure of she wipes her hand on her coat as if she can wipe away his death.

“You make it really hard to keep letting you live,” Rachel sighs, looking back up at him. He purses his lips and floats an eyebrow. “I should have killed you the first time I saw you. I would be a whole lot better off if you were a pile of dust.”

“But you didn’t,” he counters. “You could have, but instead you decided to spread your legs for the first vampire you came across that night.”

“I hate you,” she hisses.

“No, I don’t think you do,” Blaine chuckles darkly. He steps forward, pushing toward the brick wall of the alley. She retreats farther back into the alley—stupid, stupid, stupid—as he presses forward. “No, I think you just mad because even though I just fed on some street scum, you can’t bring yourself to actually kill me.”

Rachel swings, striking him across the face with a backhanded fist. Blaine chuckles darkly and spits blood out onto the ground. He forces her back until she hits the brick wall. He is only just taller than she is, but in this moment he looms over, every inch the dangerous predator. He braces an arm against the wall to lean in closely. “You hate yourself because you should be all over me trying to put a stake through my cold, dead heart, but instead you’re gonna be sucking my cock. Own up to it, missy; you can’t kill me. You want me too much.”

And suddenly she’s kissing him, and she can taste the purse snatcher’s blood on his lips. It should make her sick but it doesn’t. Someone is growling, and she doesn’t know which one it is. His hand bruise her hips and hers rake down his back. He slips a thigh between her own, and Rachel cants her hips toward him, pressing up against him. She’s already wet, embarrassingly so, and she will take any contact she can get.

Blaine’s hands come up under her thighs and lifts her up, hitching her legs up to bracket his waist. She wraps her legs around him and moans as she is pressed back against the filthy wall. His fingers are up her skirt—and really, what was she thinking patrolling in a skirt—pushing her panties out of the way. There’s the clink of his belt and then Blaine’s is inside, thrusting up. It’s hard and fast, and before Rachel knows it he’s spilling into her and she’s coming apart against the wall.

“I hate you,” she says again, but she can’t even pretend to say it with anything close to actual dislike. “I’ll kill you as soon as I get bored with whatever this is.”

Blaine simply grins and runs his tongue across his teeth. “Not if I get bored first.”

\--*--

Dating somebody that is dead isn’t so different from dating someone that is alive, Rachel finds out. Of course, all of their dates have to happen after sundown, of course, and there’s the pesky little matter of her boyfriend drinking human blood in order to live, but really, Rachel can look past that. Sort of. As far as vampires go, actually, Blaine is rather tame. He’s charming, and kind, and a good guy in spite of the fact that he has no soul. 

Parties are an unexplored territory. Rachel doesn’t get invited to many of them, but for some reason Finn Hudson has invited her and she doesn’t dare jinx it and not show up. She doesn’t tell Blaine, though. She really doesn’t feel like keeping him on a short leash all night—and she would almost certainly have to with everyone walking around like Happy Meals with legs—so she shows up at Quinn Fabray’s house solo, clutching a purse that holds her cell phone, her wallet, and a finely-sharpened wooden stake. No pepper spray. She figures she can keep a guy in line if she needs to without it.

Her luck runs out as soon as she reaches the mailbox.

Blaine is waiting for her just at the mouth of the drive way, leaning against one of the many cars parked outside on the curb. He gives her that brilliantly devilish smile that makes her weak in the knees, and Rachel shudders. With what, she isn’t sure.

“What are you doing here?” she demands, grabbing his arm.

“I heard there was a party,” he says, shrugging. “Parties are fun.”

“I didn’t invite you!”

Blaine raises both hands and puts on an innocent look that she doesn’t believe for a minute. “Hey, you’re the one that complains that we never do anything except other than making out in graveyards.”

Rather than stand in the middle of the road and argue, Rachel huffs and turns on her heel toward the house. Blaine follows closely behind.

“You’re on your best behavior,” she snaps. “No biting anybody, do you understand?”

“I’ve already eaten tonight,” he replies. “I’ll be a perfect little angel.”

 

Other than a little trouble at the front door—Blaine is forced to wait patiently until Rachel can find someone to invite him in—things go pretty well. Rachel knows very few people there, so she and Blaine stick to the edge of the group, dancing together. She has always been a very capable dancer, and it seems that being undead hasn’t put on a damper on Blaine’s capabilities either so they are able to find a comfortable groove.

The music is in a lull between songs, and Blaine leans in close. “You said Finn Hudson invited you tonight?”

Rachel nods and winds her arms around his neck. The music is picking up again, and she pulls him flush against her. His hands grip her waist, and they begin to move. “Yes, he’s the one.”

Blaine nods, looking over her shoulder. “Well, if you like him, then you should really follow him.”

Rachel turns, and through the crowd of thrashing bodies she see Finn’s tall, lanky form being led up the stairs by two girls in Cheerios uniforms. “What do you mean?”

“Someone’s on the prowl,” Blaine replies offhandedly. “And not just for a quickie in the coat closet.”

Rachel stares at him in confusion, and Blaine clicks his teeth together like he’s biting into something. Rachel gasps.

“Oh, my god. I’ll be right back.”

“Rachel!”

She spins around and pushes her way through the crowd, using a little bit more force than necessary. People give her dirty looks, but she ignores them, fighting her way to the stairs. She takes them two at a time until she is on the upstairs landing.

Somehow she is lucky enough to guess the right door the first time. She throws her shoulder into the door and the lock gives, letting her into the bedroom just in time to see the Cheerio duo sink their teeth into opposite sides of Finn Hudson’s neck.

“Finn!”

The vampires startle and stop feeding. Blood trickles from their mouth.

“Excuse me,” the darker one says, clearly annoyed. “Do you mind? We’re eating.”

Rachel darts forward, swings her fist, and lands a blow across the vampire’s face. She reels back, crashing to the floor on the other side of the bed. Finn slumps against the bedspread.

“Oh, hell no,” the vampire spits, wiping the blood from the corners of her mouth. “You did not just do that.”

“Yes,” Rachel replies. “I think I did.”

The vampire’s lips curl. “Well, that’s too bad, because now I’m going to kick your—“

“Santana, manners.”

They both turn to find Blaine in the doorway.

“Go away, Anderson,” Santana hisses. “I’m about to kick this bitch’s ass from here all the way to Lima Heights.”

“Actually, I think you should just leave.”

“Uh-uh, no way,” Santana says. “Brittany and I were minding our own business, grabbing a bite to eat with Frankenteen over here when this little Girl Scout interrupted us.”

“This Girl Scout,” Blaine said, gesturing to Rachel, “is the Slayer, San. You really don’t want to mess with her. Unless you want to leave this party in a dust pan.”

Santana’s eyes narrow and she looks between Rachel and Blaine.

“Oh my god,” Santana gasps. The corners of her lips twist, revealing gleaming white teeth. “Don’t tell me that you and Frodo, here, are doing the horizontal hobbit hop.”

Blaine growls, stepping in between them. “Santana, don’t.”

“I thought she was the Slayer,” Brittney wonders aloud from her place on the bed. “Can hobbits be Slayers?”

Santana ignores here. She steps closer, teeth bared like the predator she is. “Well, well, well, isn’t this rich? Little Blaine Warbler in love with the Slayer. And here I thought you preferred your meat with a little more chest hair. Though, by the looks of it…”

Blaine lunges, his face changing. Santana leaps forward with a grin, and the two vampires meet in the middle, a clash of snarling and gnashing fangs.

“Blaine, stop it!” Rachel leaps forward, grapping Blaine’s elbow. She tries to pull him away, but Brittany lunges for her.

She ducks under her reaching hands, and in a well-practiced move, pulls the stake from her purse and drives it up and into Brittany’s heart. The blonde vampire barely has time to scream before she explodes into a swirling cloud of cinder and ash.

Santana screeches and lunges for Rachel, but Blaine grabs her around the middle and throws the both of them through the open window.

Rachel steps over Finn’s unconscious body and follows them. She lands in a crouch in the grass below, but by the time she jumps to her feet, Santana is gone and Blaine is leaning against a tree.

“I tried to hold her, but she got away from me,” he says, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. “She must have fed earlier tonight. She was strong.”

“I’ll find her,” Rachel says. She steps forward and touches his lip, even though the cut is already sealing itself.

“Be careful,” Blaine sighs. “Brittany was her lover. She’ll be looking to her hurt you back.”

Rachel smiles. “Then I guess I’ll have to be ready.”

He nods and presses a kiss against her forehead.

Above them, Finn leans out the window. “Hey, do you guys know what the hell just happened?”


End file.
